


glutton for punishment

by glycerineclown



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Choking, Dirty Talk, F/M, Karen gets Frank to fulfill her dirty fantasies, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Post-Season 2, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, but very light choking, it works out pretty well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 11:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glycerineclown/pseuds/glycerineclown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she wants it, it's not a punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	glutton for punishment

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose technically this is post-[the wretched ones](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6433951), but it can definitely be read as a standalone.
> 
> Anything that needs a warning should be in the tags.

“You’re always asking me what I want,” Karen starts, when they’re standing in the kitchen, picking at leftovers in their underwear.

Frank nods, chewing, and waits for her to finish.

“I... have this fantasy,” she says, scrunching her face up. “I feel kind of weird about it.”

He smiles lazily and swallows, sets his plate down. “Tell me.”

“I just... I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

Frank just shrugs and leans his hip against the counter. “Only one way to find out.”

Karen looks down, stabs her fork into her food. “I’ve been a bad girl, and I want you to punish me.”

He takes a long breath in, and clears his throat. “Oh. Um—how far. Would it go.”

“Spanking.”

Frank nods, bites his lip. “You asking me, or The Punisher?”

She looks up, right to his eyes. “You.”

“Good.”

Frank stares into the sink for a full minute, thinking. Putting her food down, she watches him nervously, twisting her fingers together, and when he meets her gaze again, she can tell his gears have fallen into place.

“I can do that,” he says, like he’s accepting a mission. “We’ll have a safeword. Other than that I just have one rule—and you can’t break it, not for punishment, not ever.”

Karen nods. “Sure, what is it?”

“You can’t call me Daddy.”

 

 

They’re disheveled and lying in bed the next time they discuss it. He’d gotten dressed enough to smoke a cigarette from her windowsill, and she’d sat up and checked her Twitter feed—she was required to have one now, with her work at the Bulletin—until he came back to sprawl out with her.

“You’re quite the paradox, Miss Page,” Frank says, propped over her on one elbow, palming her breast. “Or maybe with your fearlessness it makes perfect sense. Puts you right in my path.”

She arches into his touch. “I’m a complicated girl.”

“There’s a level of ownership implied, y’know, with that kind of roleplay.”

She nods, lets her fingertips trail up his arm. “I know.”

“That why you like it?”

Karen flushes pink. “Maybe.”

He watches her face carefully, his fingers running up the line of her clavicle. “D’you want me to treat you like that? Like you belong to me?”

“Yeah, but maybe just... dirty talk? And the way you touch me?”

Frank’s eyes close halfway, the hand holding his head up tightening into a fist. “Like nasty shit, the kind of shit I’d beat someone to a bloody pulp for saying to you?”

Her mouth twists into a smile. “No. Just... y’know, dispense with being a gentleman.”

“That doesn’t tell me much. You want me to talk shit, I was a Marine surrounded by lonely, angry men—I know all the names in the book. Ma’am.”

Karen snorts. “ _I want you_ to hold me down. Tell me what I’ve done wrong and what you’re gonna do about it.”

“You want that?”

“I know you won’t hurt me any more than I want you to.” He frowns at that, and she touches his face. “What is it?”

“I just want to make sure you know that I would never lash out at you for your decisions, or for liking someone else, or wanting to end things with me.” Frank sighs and shakes his head. “We—this is—I can’t have power over you. There’s too much wrong with us.”

Karen just smiles and pulls him in, until their lips are centimeters apart. “I know. That’s why I trust you with this.”

“You should know better than that.”

“But if you’re only giving me what I ask for?”

Frank grunts, and kisses her. “Then I live to serve, darlin’. But you’ve gotta show me, the way you want it. Can’t just wing that shit.”

 

 

She shows him, all right. It’s a part he knows how to play—condescending, possessive—and he’s got the control of his strength down to an exact science. He’s never let himself get too nasty with Karen before, though. At least not as if it was for his benefit.

She’ll be a brat, and resist, but she wants praise, and for him not to call her _ma’am_.

She’ll be the death of him, and he’s fine with that.

 

 

“Where you been?” Frank demands, right when she gets home, before Karen can even see him. “You didn’t pick up your phone.”

She walks into the apartment like it’s no big, shrugs out of her coat. “Sorry, my burner died, and I didn’t have the charger with me.”

“D’you know how worried I’ve been?” Frank says evenly, from his seat, his fingers drumming on the kitchen table next to him. “Wilson Fisk is as good as out of prison with all the power he still wields. You need to be accessible to me at all times. If I’m expecting you back here at a certain time, you need to keep to that.”

She walks to him, brings a hand up to card through his hair, but his face doesn’t respond to her. “I—I’m sorry,” she says, softly.

“Not yet you’re not.”

Her eyes widen. “Frank—”

“Turn around. Got a lesson to teach you, Miss Page.”

She does, slowly, and he goes for her zipper—it’s up the back.

“These damn skirts,” Frank grunts, wrapping a hand around her waist. “I swear, Karen, you attract enough dangerous attention as it is. Even if it’s not somebody’s fucking henchman—”

She twists around, scowls at him. “This is totally reasonable office wear!”

“Yeah, and you look fucking hot in it. Goddamn.”

She hears the threads in her skirt creak as he rips it roughly to her ankles, but it doesn’t tear.

“The top too,” he says, as Karen steps out of the fabric.

Her hands shake a little as she unbuttons her blouse herself. “I don’t understand, Frank.” Karen strips it off, lets it fall to the floor with her skirt.

He sighs, sits back in his chair. “You need to remember to let me know if you’ll be three hours late, and not _dead_ , so I’m going to spank you.” He looks up at her.

Karen stares back, facing him now, affronted. If she wants it, it’s not a punishment. “You have no right, asshole—”

“The hell I don’t,” he growls. “Over my knee.”

Frank spreads his legs, his boots scraping the floor, and pats his thigh.

Karen looks down at her heels, and puts a hand on his shoulder for balance as she steps out of them, hissing a _fuck you_ through her teeth.

“I will if you’re good,” Frank says, and pulls Karen over his lap. Her hair falls down around her face immediately, and she flips it to one side so that she can look up at Frank, one hand on the floor.

“Color,” he says softly, and she smiles.

“Green.”

Frank nods minutely, running his hands over her ass, his callouses catching on the lace of her panties. He squeezes each cheek lightly over the lace, and then harder from beneath it, his thumb dipping into the crack of her ass.

“Five definitely won’t put the message across,” Frank says, and he’s met with silence. “How’s ten sound?” 

Karen presses her lips together, doesn’t say a word.

“Answer me, Karen.”

She sighs, and nods. “Okay.”

“Sure you don’t want fifteen? Cause I can make that happen.”

Karen shakes her head. “Ten’s fine.”

“Good girl. Let’s start with that and see if you’ve gotten the picture.”

His first strike is fairly mild, open palm to the center of her right cheek, and she jerks a little in his lap, but stays quiet.

“How many is that?” he prompts.

“One,” she says.

Frank grunts back at her, runs his blunt fingernails over her skin. The second strike’s harder, left cheek, the slap of skin loud in Frank’s ear.

Karen says _two_ without help.

Frank tugs her panties down the curve of her ass after that, leaves them at the top of her thighs. “I wish I didn’t have to do this,” Frank says, one warm hand running over her shoulder blades and the band of her bra, to the back of her neck. “It’s for your own good, though, and you know it, don’t you.”

His fingers massage deep into the back of her neck before letting go, and then his other hand comes down, solid, and she gasps, letting out a squeak.

“ _Don’t you_.”

“Yes, Frank,” she says, softly. “Three.”

Four and five come in quick succession—he uses one hand to hold her cheeks apart, and slaps down between them on each side. Karen moans in response before counting them off, and he chuckles, rubs his hands over her reddening skin.

“You pink up so nice for me, sweet girl. Very good.”

Karen licks her lips, shifting her weight over his thighs, raising her hips as much as she can. “Thank you, sir.”

“Look at you,” he says, honeyed, and runs his fingers from the back of one knee up to her ass. “Five more, babe.”

Karen nods, and her hair falls around her face again. She cries out with the sixth strike, and his other hand comes down, cards into her hair.

“Six,” Karen pants, turning her head into his touch.

She whimpers through the seventh against the top of her thighs, and his fingers slip between them, slide into the lips of her pussy. Frank groans and finds her clit with his middle finger, circles it once.

“Fuck, Karen,” he groans. “You get off on this, don’t you?”

She nods against his grip on her hair, and he tugs her panties off the rest of the way, gives her the eighth.

“Yes, sir. Eight.”

Letting go of her hair, Frank’s hand trails back up her spine, and cracks down on her left cheek. She hisses through the sting of it, and then sighs, laughing softly.

“You’re one glutton for punishment, Miss Page.” Frank adjusts his hips under her, and she can feel his cock through his jeans when he pulls her hips more securely against him, away from his knees.

Karen smiles. “Nine.”

“And whose ass is this?” Frank asks, squeezing her cheeks again, her skin hot under his hands, like she could burn him. “Hmmm? Who does it belong to?”

“You,” she says, softly, almost a whisper.

Frank’s eyebrows raise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. What was that?”

“My ass is yours, Frank,” she says, louder.

“Good girl. Just one more.”

Ten is the hardest, makes her eyes water. Karen’s panting a little when she bursts out with the last number, and he hums down at her as she wipes her eyes.

Frank’s fingers tuck her hair behind her ear. “Think you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” she says, looking up at him, the backs of his fingers brushing over her cheek. She noses into his hand, finds a fingertip with her mouth and sucks it in, her eyes closing.

Frank grunts, lets her take him down to the knuckle, hollow her cheeks.

“You wanna get fucked next?” he asks her, softly.

All she can do is nod, and after a moment, Frank pulls his finger from her mouth and helps her to stand.

“Good,” he says, his voice honeyed again. “Let’s get you some lotion first, huh?”

Karen nods again, her hair a mess, naked but for her bra, her legs a little unsteady, and he helps her over to her bed, lowers her onto the sheets. She hisses when her ass meets the bed, and turns onto her side.

He kneels beside the bed, smoothing her hair with his hands, and presses a kiss to her temple. “Tell me your color, babe.”

Karen smiles and sighs another _green_.

She feels boneless by the time he returns with a pump bottle of Lubriderm, but the coolness of the lotion on her ass wakes her right up. Stretching her limbs, Karen rolls onto her stomach, and looks over her shoulder at Frank.

“How’s that feel, sweet girl?” he asks, rubbing it in, the temperature evening out quick.

With a groan, Karen gets to her knees on the mattress, presents herself. “Good, Frank.”

He presses a kiss to the small of her back and reaches for his belt. Over her shoulder, Karen watches him bend down to unlace his boots and get rid of his jeans. He looks up, catches her—hungry, waiting for him—and shakes his head.

He reaches out and smacks her hip lightly. “Eyes forward, Karen. This ain’t no peep show.”

She grins at the wall as his briefs fall to the floor. He’s naked when he climbs onto the bed behind her. The box of condoms gets tossed a few inches from her pillow, and then strong hands are moving Karen’s hips, a stiff cock sliding up the inside of her thigh.

Karen groans, rocking back into him, and unclips her bra, lets it fall over the edge of the bed.

Her pussy accepts Frank’s fingers so easily that his breath shakes, his cock _aches_ —she’s so perfect.

“Fuck, Frank,” she breathes, as he curls his fingers, twists them inside her.

“Your body is just begging for it,” Frank growls, and Karen bites her lip, whines at him—and then his hand leaves her. “Not much of a punishment if you ask me. Maybe I shouldn’t give you what you want after all.”

“What?” she says, turning to look at him, her jaw dropping. “Frank, c’mon.”

He wraps a fist around his dick, strokes it slow. “You scared the shit outta me today.”

“I’m sorry—I can, I can—”

He cocks his head to the side. “What can you do?”

Karen turns on her hands and knees, until she’s facing him. “I can prove it to you, how sorry I am.”

“And how are you gonna do that, huh?”

She licks her lips. “With my mouth.”

Frank’s eyes close at that—Karen’s _gorgeous_ with her lips around his cock, with his fingers threaded in her hair—the first time, she did it while he sat on her couch, with her knees down on a pillow.

She had offered and then insisted, ‘cause by that time he’d gone down on her on three separate occasions.

He won’t last for that. It takes every ounce of him to refuse her now.

“I don’t think so, Karen.”

She almost pouts at him. “But _why_ , Frank?”

“I wanna hear you ask nice for my cock instead of all this wailin’ I’m hearing. I’m gonna go soft if you apologize to me anymore.”

“Please, Frank,” she starts, leans up to kiss his face, his neck. “Please, fuck me, your cock is so good inside me, Frank, I’m a fucking faucet for you, I swear to god.” Her hands come up to stroke down his arms, and he smiles, and finally, finally has a chance to kiss her.

“I know you are, sweet girl.”

“And I’ll never be late without telling you again.”

Frank groans, considers her, touches her face. And then he reaches for a condom. “Put it on me.”

Grinning, she unwraps it and does so, and turns around, lets his hands push her down onto her elbows, face into the pillows.

He enters her on his knees, from behind—she winces a little as he bottoms out, but her face smooths over after his second thrust. Once she starts meeting him halfway, grinding back on him, Frank pulls her up from her elbows, until her back’s up against his chest.

He keeps her there with a hand wrapped around the front of her throat.

He’s only really holding on with the thumb pressed into her pulse point, though, and she tilts into him, pulls her hair over one shoulder, gasps when he sinks his teeth into her skin. His forearm, the one attached to the hand around her neck, is pressing her breast down against her body.

“Shit, Karen, I bet you thought about this even before I took the stand, didn’t you,” he grinds out, into her ear. “Getting a nice aggressive dicking from the goddamned Punisher—letting him _absolve_ you.”

The fingers of his other hand sneak around her hip, down to her clit.

She cries out as he rubs her, clenches her muscles down around his cock and brings a hand up to the back of his neck, leans her head against Frank’s. “Maybe once or twice,” she breathes in his ear. “Jesus Christ, Frank.”

But he’s better than her fantasies, he’s real and gripping her, sweating, filling her. That doesn’t usually happen—any reality being better than her hopes, her dreams.

Unless Frank’s legal situation was the price of admission, in which case this is a 10-carat diamond at the bottom of Shit Creek.

He leans over after a few more strokes, pushes her back down until she’s on her hands and knees, and the angle lets him get deeper.

“Fuuuck, Frank,” she breathes. “Want your cum in me.”

She hears him chuckle, and he stops, balls deep. “I wanna see your face,” he whispers, against the skin of her shoulders. “On your back, sweet girl.”

She feels him reach down to hold the condom, and she slides off his cock, rolls over.

Frank’s still on his knees. He grabs a pillow to put in front of him, grunts as he picks her ass up to rest on his thighs. He lets Karen’s legs wrap around him, and guides himself back into her.

His arms wind around her waist, his lips go right for her chest, mouthing over the marks on her skin where her bra used to be, and then his hands follow, tweaking her nipples and sliding up to her wrists, pulling them to cross above her head.

“Stay,” he says firmly, and when she doesn’t fight him, lets them go.

He watches her eyes close, her little smile. They kiss like that for a while before he even starts moving again, before his hand goes back to rubbing her clit and she tilts her head back, mouth wide open.

His thrusts slow then, and Frank concentrates on what his hands are doing, listening to the way she tells him what she likes without words—from the pace of her breathing, the noises she makes when he circles her clit with two fingers instead of one. With her eyes, when she looks up at him.

The hand he has gripping one hip is holding her firmly, giving him leverage as he rocks into her—and when Karen shudders, moans out an _ohmygodrighttheredon’tstop_ , he doubles down, picks up his pace with his hips a little when she starts gasping like she’s run a mile.

Frank carries her over the edge, stays inside her, fucks her through it as she dissolves into the sheets.

She halfway registers Frank’s long groan into her neck—and when she comes back, he’s still there, softening inside her, bringing her wrists down, rubbing them like they’d really been tied up.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he says, with a warm smile. “Did I go too easy on you?”

 

 

They’ll have to think of crimes worse than getting home late.

Shouldn’t be too hard.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://glycerineclown.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
